Masterblade
by CJzilla
Summary: MIB/Predator X-over. Three rouge predators target earth and begin a bloody campaign. Mankind is in serious danger. Agents K and J team up with Major Alan "Dutch" Schaefer and Alexa Woods to stop the bloodshed. Rated for predator reasons.
1. Launch

Ohayo Tokyo! Konnichi wa London! Konban wa New York! CJzilla here with her first "Predator" fic. It's good to be here and it's been a long time coming. Let me give you a run down.

Three rouge predators target earth and begin a bloody campaign in the thick Indonesian jungle. Our world is in serious danger. Agent K and Agent J of the MIB are put in charge of the situation but fighting such a powerful and mysterious adversary leaves the agents searching out those most experienced with the vicious extraterristials. The names of an ex-military mercenary Alan "Dutch" Schaefer and field guide Alexa Woods are at the forefront. With a team assembled, the MIB set off to hunt down the rouge aliens before they can kill again.

As I tear down this city with my claws, alls CJzilla has to roar is this: R&R! Fluff or flame me... I don't care.

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Masterblade

Chapter One:

_Launch_

Stars glittered like diamond shards peppered over a black velvet sky.

An open campfire drew the boundary between sky and earth on this hot and humid night. Four Papasena warriors sat by the fire, their tan Indonesian skin illuminated by the fire they were staring into, seemingly hypnotized flame's flickering dance. No; fatigue, not hypnotism clouded the minds of these huntsmen of the Fojo Mountain. After a day of tracking and hunting down a Sunda Sambar deer, these substance hunters ate their full of the creature's flesh and would return to their families in the morning to share the spoils. A successful kill, a rarity and a reason to rejoice; only tonight their full bellies were enviously watched from beyond the campfire's light.

A large and hungry tiger stalked the camp, attracted by the smell of the deer's blood and the movements of the humans. The predator's vocal calls were heard circling the area, hungrily pacing in the shadows and near the tree where the hunters had hung the remains of their butchered kill. It avoided the firelight as it hesitated to attack. The huntsmen sat in a ring around their large fire, facing the bright flame as they gripped their local weapons, daring the haunting cat to strike.

The jungle canopy whispered with a calm night breeze. The hunters made camp near the same spot where they felled the deer; a large grassy clearing in the middle of a Fojo Mountain jungle forest. They fought off the haze of sleep and a hungry tiger. Gazing upward, one hunter looked to the stars, changing his sight from staring into the fire.

Above their heads and jungle canopy, millions of stars sparkled without hindrance of big city lights. Enjoying the beautiful winks each of the stars gave, something caught the hunter's eye. Three stars, slightly bigger than the rest, shown bright orange against the black night sky. Thinking his tired eyes were playing tricks on him, the hunter blinked. As he watched the stars he noticed they grew larger as they came closer.

_Foom_

A burst of light shot through the night sky and screeching whistles were heard as the stars fell came closer. The bewildered hunters watched the masses of light streak through the night sky, only half a mile from their camp. The stars struck the ground with such a force, it shook the dirt under their seats. After the initial shake of the ground, all went silent again. The huntsmen glanced at each other before slowly rising to their feet. A mix of confused curses and superstitious comments cut through the silence.

What was that?

The hunters strained their senses to see beyond the darkness, their curiosity avid but their fear of the supernatural far greater. Still, the quiet of the jungle remained. Dismissing the bedazzling event wasn't easy but after ten minuets, the huntsmen were cautious yet satisfied that they were safe. Taking their seats around the fire, they continued to guard their slaughtered deer. They realized then, that the stalking tiger had since vanished after the three stars fell from the sky. Perhaps now, they could get some much needed sleep.

The hunters splayed out around the fire, still gripping their weapons but letting sleep blanket them.

One hunter, adorned with a feathered necklace, yawned loudly and stretched. As he raised his hands toward the night sky, something wrapped around his wrists and seized him. Faster than he realized he was in danger and far faster than he could scream, the hunter was yanked out of the firelight and into the blackness. The other hunters heard only a few leaves fall from the jungle canopy but didn't realize their friend was gone.

A third hunter sat up from lying on the ground. Reaching to his hip, he retrieved his hunter's knife and held it in his hand. Swiping the air a couple times with the large blade, he made sure he would be ready for when that leopard returned. As his head was bowed, he felt an unusual pressure on his throat. But before the man could reach his hand up, he too was jerked upward and into the jungle canopy. His companions heard what they thought was a stifled cough but was in fact their friend's terrified scream, cut short by a wire-like rope snagged around his neck as he was wrenched to the canopy above.

The second hunter rolled to his stomach and rested his head on his forearms. He sighed, contented with a bed and a full stomach. The man's spear lay by his side, ready to defend him if need be. Just as sleep was overtaking him, he heard a rustling in the grass near the camp but outside of the firelight. Lifting his head and turning to the direction of the sound, he waited and listened. The man heard a slight whistle before he caught a glimmer of the fire off of something metallic falling toward him from the sky. In a flash of a second, something pierced his back, pinning the helpless man to the ground. His last audible utterance was a wet half-scream as he expired.

Immediately his friend was jarred from sleep by the bizarre sound out of his friend's mouth. He looked over to his companion. As soon as his eyes cleared of haze and he saw the long, metallic spear jutting from his companion's back, fear overtook him. Scrambling to his hands and knees, the man was unable to take his eyes from the horrific sight. Then the spear and the man skewered on it were jerked into the night sky, disappearing into the darkness with not a sound more.

_Thunk_

The remaining hunter heard a thump from across the fire. Turning his head, the man saw his other hunting companion with the feathered necklace, lying still like he was asleep. Getting to his feet but gripping his old rifle tight against his chest, the hunter rushed to his friend's side. Practically yelling the man's name, the hunter shook his friend, trying to rouse him from what he thought was slumber. But when he turned his friend over, he found the man to be lifeless, a look of terror on his face.

Stumbling back and falling nearly in the fire, the last man gasped sharply, hugging his weapon. His mind raced for rationality. Was this the work of an animal or a rival tribe executing revenge upon him and his friends? Only a small problem: animals and humans make noise as they move; the man heard and saw nothing beyond the fire. Neither words nor thoughts entered into his mind as he shifted into one of the most primal instincts humans possess. Fear.

Then he heard movement but it was erratic. Brush rustled, dead leaves crunched under feet and guttural croaks reached his ears. Panic gripped his mind and the hunter fired his rifle into the blackness. Still, the sounds continued and advanced. A twig snapped right behind the man. He spun, rifle readied to fire. But what he saw was no animal or enemy tribesman. There was nothing before him, but as the fire flickered and sent embers into the air, a hidden silhouette was seen. The man's mouth fell wide open when he saw the outline of the monster. It was two feet taller than him, wide where a human's shoulders would be and stood like a man. The figure growled at him. The man pulled the trigger of his rifle but only received an empty wheeze from the exhausted firearm. He was out of bullets, out of luck and out of time.

He pulled back the butt of his rifle and attempted to strike the invisible monster in front of him. The creature caught it, yanked the steel firearm from his grip and broke it with a simple gesture. The man began slowly moving backwards and his ankle hit a piece of wood sticking out of the fire. Snatching the flaming branch from the fire, the hunter swung it wildly at the monster advancing on him. Unfazed by the flames on the burning wood, the monster swatted at the man's forearm as he drew his arm back for another wild strike. With a sickening crack, the man's arm busted from the monster's forceful stroke.

Dropping his only weapon, the man cried in pain as he reeled with the cuff. Regaining his footing, the hunter cradled his broken arm. Raising his eyes for the last time, the man saw two other similar figures standing on either side of the invisible monster. As the fire blazed between the two parties, a red light from one of the monsters rested on the man's forehead. A blue light and loud crack ended the unrest in the jungle.

The four Papasena hunters were as dead as their antelope kill and, just as they did to their quarry, their bodies were being butchered by firelight. The tiger hadn't gone far and his patience was rewarded. There will be plenty to eat once the three alien monsters finished the grisly task of making their trophies.

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R&R! LONG LIVE ROCK!


	2. Two's Up

Ohayo! CJzilla here with an update. Larger chapters to come later.

As I rip this city to the ground, alls CJzilla has to roar is this: R&R! Love on me or hate on me... I don't care.

AN: I own nothing but your reviews and sanity.

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Chapter 2

_Two's Up_

The streets were relatively quiet for a NYC weekday morning. It was eight a.m.; children were back at school after summer vacation and most of the adults were at work. It was a wonderful, normal late summer morning for all the average people out there. And a smooth black car gliding down a city street lined with a neighborhood of apartment buildings was a common sight.

The jet black car pulled into an empty parking space, just in front of one of the many apartment buildings. With the setting of the parking break, the engine cut. As the driver of the car went to open his door, he nearly clipped a rushing cyclist. The bicyclist swerved to miss the car door and let some heated words fly at the driver. Climbing out of the car a middle aged man with thinning brown hair, a chiseled face and thick sunglasses waved an apology to the cyclist he nearly maimed. In typical New Yorker style, the bicyclist peddled off but not without giving an infamous and inappropriate finger gesture.

The man grinned and shook his head as he closed his car door. Straightening his Hawaiian shirt he looked over the apartment building neighborhood. Clicking his tongue, the middle aged man moved around the front of his car and armed its security by a press of his keychain. Moving to the nearest building, he began to walk the stairs of the structure before he spotted a scruffy homeless man under a large trench coat and baseball cap lounging on the stoop. He nodded a hello before giving the hobo a proper greeting.

"Good morning, Garfield." He took the sunglasses from his eyes and tucked then into his shirt's pocket.

The vagabond raised his head and from under the bill of his warn and dirty baseball cap, snake-like eyes stared back.

""Morning"?" The hobo huffed. "I'm _glad_ it is morning. My shift's _over_! You owe me fifty, Agent K."

The middle aged man gave an annoyed groan and dug around in his short's pocket. Pulling out a fifty dollar bill, he held it between his two fingers.

"I told you not to call me that in public, Garfield." The man scolded lightly, shaking the money at the vagrant.

Scoffing the hobo didn't take his slitted eyes off of the fifty dollar bill.

"Relax. There's no one but you and me." He replied.

The man gave a lively agreeable nod before tossing the money at the hobo's feet. Out from under Garfield's dirty overcoat, a slimy tentacle reached and seized the money before disappearing back into the fabric.

"Was the… kid any trouble?" The middle aged man nodded upwards, gesturing with his eyes toward the apartment building.

Again the "hobo" scoffed.

"He did nothin' all night." Garfield replied. "I got an easy fifty."

The man nodded silently as a wondering look came to his eyes. He made one step toward the locked entrance of the apartment building before he stopped. Turning to Garfield, the man looked at his with cool brown eyes.

"Hey, Garfield?" His voice went expressionless. "The next time you call me _that_ again, I'll hack you up into little pieces and drop you off in China Town."

Garfield's eyes snake-like widened from under that baseball cap.

"Oh, and uh, have a good day." The man tossed the hobo a menacing grin before he walked to the entrance of the apartment building.

Pressing his finger to the call button, the man known as Agent K waited for his hail to be answered. When the answer didn't come as quick as he wanted, Agent K began to play out Beethoven's 5th on the buzzer. His rendition of the deceased composer's famous work was interrupted.

"What?! What?! _What_?!" Came an angry but groggy response over the little intercom system.

Agent K grinned brightly as he leaned into his end of the receiver.

"Candygram!" The man yelled loudly.

There was a silence where he was sure the kid flinched on the other side of the line. A lengthy sigh came in response.

"K. It's eight in the _a.m_." A voice of a tired African-American man was carried over the apartment's receiver.

"Shh-_ya_!" Perky Agent K agreed in a Sunset Strip accent. "What are you still doin' in bed, kid?"

Another lengthy pause over the receiver.

"It's my day off, dude." He returned in an angry monotone voice. "Why won't you leave me alone, K?"

Agent K mulled over the question for a second.

"Because I love you." He answered, removing his finger from the intercom button.

Yet another pause and Agent K curbed a big laugh.

"_No_!" Was the sarcastic reply over the receiver. "Well, take y'all's undyin' love and _go play in traffic_! I'm tryin' to catch some Z's here, K!"

The middle aged man curbed a loud laugh at the kid's blatant disregard for his higher rank.

"I'd love to Sylvia, really." Agent K returned sarcastically. "But you and I got to head back to the office."

BIG pause. Even though he couldn't hear a thing over the receiver, Agent K pictured his younger partner throwing a four-year-old tantrum on the living room floor.

"Classic. My only day off in two months and I gotta spend it with _you_ in the office." The young man grumbled.

"_Oh_! It's not _that_ bad! You could spend your day off in the office and look like _me_." Agent K joked.

He predicted a laugh out of the younger man.

"A'ight… I'll be right down." He chuckled and the conversation over receiver was ended.

Agent K grinned as he leaned against the apartment's wall.

The morning was relatively normal for the MIB's most abnormal partners. Once you get used to defending the earth from evil alien activity, the job felt like any other nine to five, save for the fact humanity could end if you err in anyway. Agent K and his hip, young partner Agent J were no exception from the "mess-up-and-the-world's-screwed" principle. Both experienced officers saved the world about a dozen times over, thwarting evil alien plot after another and keeping immigrant extraterrestrial life in order. Today's conundrum would be no different from yesterday's earth-ending problem. At least, that's what it would seem.

About eight minuets later, a young African-American man with big ears and a cocky swagger emerged from the locked apartment. Passing through the many security doors, he pulled a light jacket over his shoulders. Exiting the last door, Agent J sighed.

"Sometimes, I don't know if I live in an apartment or a prison." He glanced up at the building before taking a bite of his strawberry Poptart.

Agent K's mouth sunk down as he saw the cardboard-like pastry. Reaching out, he swatted his partner's hand, making the Poptart fall to the ground. Without another word, Agent K minced the nasty tartlet into the dirty cement with his heel. Agent J folded his arms over his chest, giving his partner an irritated look as he chewed his only bite of his Poptart.

"First, y'all make me come into the office on my day off an' _now_? You mashed my Poptart!" The black man pointed to the decimated pastry on ground. "You owe _me_ an' my little Poptart baby an _apology_!"

Agent K dragged his foot on the cement, trying to scrape off the strawberry filling off of the bottom of his shoe.

"You ain't eating that ballistic breakfast food in my car." He passed a nonchalant glance over his shoulder.

Agent J growled as he shook his head in disbelief.

"You are buying me breakfast. You dig?" He pointed a finger in Agent K's face.

The middle aged man wasn't swayed.

"The only thing I'll be digging is a shallow grave for you if you keep sassing me, boy." Agent K returned, his monotone scary-voice coming out.

Agent J had heard too much of the "scary-voice" to be frightened by it.

"I want a Poptart, _just_ like the one y'all mercilessly killed." He pointed at the ground.

Agent K shook his head and made his way to the stairs. The two Men In Black passed Garfield the hobo, still sitting on the building's stoop. The alien bobbed his head and waved a tentacle at Agent J. Returning the gesture, the younger agent scoffed at his partner as they descended the stairs.

"And I know about you bribin' Garfield to watch me!" He heard J complain. "What's _that_ all about, man?"

Taking out his sunglasses and placing them over his eyes as they walked out into the morning sun, Agent K gave a little shrug.

"Eh. In this business, it pays to have extra eyes on you." He answered.

Agent K walked around his car and pressed the security keychain, disarming the security system. Agent J scoffed.

"Yeah right, man." Opening the door, J climbed into the black car. "What we do is all about secrecy. I can't havin' all these _eyes_ on me 'cause it'll blow my cover! What's the matter with you?"

K had since sat in his car and was adjusting his rear-view mirror.

"It's also about survival, J." He returned, clipping in his seat belt and starting the car. "You've gotten too cocky, kid. Someone's gonna shoot you down when you least expect it."

Agent J gave a snigger but fell silent as he gazed out the window. K knew he won and pulled the car out into the road.

"You are a walking fortune cookie minus the cookie." The young agent voiced as they drove off. "And _what_ is with that hideous Hawaiian shirt? You look like someone's drunk uncle at a luau."

Agent K shrugged.

"Have you heard about anyone in a Hawaiian shirt causing trouble?" The senior MIB asked. "Keep a low profile even if that means looking like you dressed in the dark."

"You're crazy, man." Agent J shook his head.

"At least I'm not a Poptart." Agent K returned as they disappeared down an adjacent city block.

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R&R! LONG LIVE ROCK!


	3. Back In Black

Ohayho to all those Motherhopers out there! CJzilla here with another chapter! In this update, K and J are given their latest assignment: Finding two special civilians. Enjoy.

As I rampage all over this city, alls CJzilla has to roar is this: R&R! Love on me, hate on me... whatever.

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Back in Black

Agents K and J walked through the front door of the MIB headquarters at cozy 504 Battery Drive. Man, this place felt like home; if home was a sterile intergalactic airport nutshell with legalized extraterrestrials running around, making sure that the world doesn't end.

K and J stripped off their casual clothes and any know links to the outside world. Now dressed in black suits and dark sunglasses, all aliens knew who they were. They were MIB agents, employed by a top-secret agency that polices, monitors and directs alien activity on Earth. K and J were the best in the biz and as they walked through the lobby of MIB HQ, a path through the colorful beings was cleared.

"So what's going down now, K?" J asked as he nodded hellos to his fellow MIB agents.

"I don't know." K answered. "I'm flying blind, just like you."

Agent J clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"Reduced to a couple of first year greenhorns that aren't told a thing until they're in the fat fryer." He voiced. "Zed ain't ever done this before."

"Maybe. Chief Zed probably has a good reason for it…" Agent K trailed off. "As they say, ignorance is bliss until you're staring down the barrel of a loaded weapon."

Again, J shook his head as both of them strutted up to the Chief's office. Agent K opened the door and walked right in with J on his heels. The Chief was yelling and cursing at the interstellar communicator on his desk. Just before they tuned into what their boss was yelling about, K and J saw a fierce looking alien's form on the screen of the communicator.

"This IS _YOUR_ PROBLEM!" Zed fumed, tensed up in his seat as he white-knuckled on his desk. "You have breached _THE_ Intergalactic Treaty! The presence of your species here on Earth will _not_ be tolerated on this _apolitical_ planet! And, may I point out that you are liable for this unauthorized _invasion_?! Invasion! Ha! You hear me?!"

K and J glanced at each other. Chief Zed was going crazy, laughing like a madman at the alien on the screen.

"Is that good for interstellar relations?" J whispered to K.

The senior officer shrugged.

"He's only like this on special occasions." K answered.

J nodded, understanding.

"Oh." The black agent in the black suit forced a smile. "So then the Earth is in some deep sh-"

"Oh yeah?! With just a _flick_ of my _sausage_ finger, I could slap your people with an U-N-A-U-T-H-O-R-I-Z-E-D I-N-V-A-S-I-O-N!" Zed got a crazy smile on his face. "That means revoked privileges, penalties up to your freakishly ugly eyelids and having a HUGE black spot on your planet's record! I-!"

The alien responded with several clicks and guttural purrs. Now Zed looked truly ticked off.

"DO NOT terminate this transmission, you butt-faced-!" The MIB Chief went on before the communicator blacked out and snapped quiet.

Growling in frustration Zed sat back in his chair and scowled, like he was holding a giant scream. He face-palmed and spun on his chair.

"_Good_ morning, Chief!" Agent K cheered slamming his hands down on his boss's desk. "What's the word?"

The aged white man, about K's age looked up through aggravated brown eyes.

"Doomed. The word of the day is "doomed", friend." Zed responded, his words muffled from his mouth being in his hand.

"Whoa, Zed." J came walking up to his boss. "Y'all went crazy back there. What's in your cereal this mornin', man?"

The Chief of MIB tolerated J because K tolerated J, but the younger agent's charms wore off when the planet was in danger.

"Kid, you've always seen me keep a cool head, right?" Zed rolled back to his desk. "Well today, let's just say we're all doomed."

K sniggered.

"We're never doomed, Zed." He sat on Zed's desk. "What's going on?"

Zed groaned in frustration.

"Who you saw me conversing with-" The Chief began.

"Yo, yo Chief, you were _yellin'_ at the thing, man." J laughed.

"FINE! "Yellin'" at… is one of the chief leaders of a war-like race of extraterrestrial beings. They are the reason for the term "Intergalactic Scum"." Zed continued. "A race known as the Yautja."

J again gave a chuckle.

"That's a funny yet dirty soundin' name." The comment got the younger agent a sharp look from K.

Zed sighed at the comment. K gave another snicker.

"Wonderful story, Zed; I think I told that one to my granddaughter." He responded with a smile. "What's really going on?"

"Y'all don't have a granddaughter." J didn't get the joke.

Again Zed stuck his face in his hand.

"Apparently three Yautja warriors have gone rouge and made landfall less than twelve hours ago." The Chief stated.

K got rigid.

"Where?" He questioned.

"At the foot of the Foja Mountains, Western Papua New Guinea, Indonesia." Zed answered. "And how do I know this? Because reports of four Papasena huntsmen were found hanging from the trees, without their skin and very, _very_ dead."

Agent K's face went as stony.

"Look, K." Zed turned to his friend. "These scum bags are bad news but rouges? Even more bad news, K."

"I know what rouges are, Zed. Now, we need to gun them down before they gun us down." K said frankly but then clapped his hands. "How do we do that?"

Zed himself looked stumped.

"Yautja are a mysterious race. They are in and out too fast for our agents to know anything about em'." He shook his head. "That hideous motherhoper that I was talking to contacted _US_ and as it turns out, two of these Yautja are juvenile but one is an unstable adult just lookin' for some sick kicks. Lucky for us, he picked Earth to squat on."

K shook his head, his eyes cast off into space.

"We do know that the Yautja indiscriminately hunt humans, illegally of course." The Chief sunk lower in his chair. "And after they've slaughtered human after human, the Yautja sometimes remove skin and skulls… with the spinal cord still attached."

Zed fell silent for a long second before looking up at both Agents J and K.

"These are rouge. That means they don't give a crud about lives or the consequences. And I bet that their version of a good time is killing and killing until there's nothing left to kill. You get me?" He raised his brown eyebrows at his two best agents.

"Like K said, Z." Agent J stepped forward. "We need to plug a gun up their rectum before they do."

"Yeah." Quieted K spoke up. "We don't know squat about the Yautja so, who does?"

Zed shrugged.

"No one who works for the MIB knows anything." The Chief responded. "But…"

He hit a button on his desk and a big screen appeared on a window.

"There have been reports of Yautja-like behavior that people have lived to tell about." Zed scrolled through his files and came to one.

The computer accessed the data and it was displayed on the holographic screen. A slideshow of pictures was displayed at Zed's command.

"Late 80's, the coast of Guatemala. Reports of a big, devastating explosion ended a series of bloody yet unexplainable murders. Victims include a team of Green Berets and five of the six mercenaries sent to rescue them." Zed stated. "Only one man walked away from that jungle with his life, known as Major Alan "Dutch" Schaefer. He has since left the military after the escapade. When asked about what happened, the man wouldn't respond, even to government officials. To the press, the U.S. and Mexican governments passed off the explosion and events surrounding the incident as a "misfired warhead", thus viewed as a fluke and forgotten by mankind since then."

K and J glanced at each other before returning their eyes to the screen.

"This one's a little more recent." Zed switched to another file. "2004, Bouvetøya Island, an icy little rock about one thousand miles away from Antarctica. A billionaire by the name of Charles Bishop Weyland; you know, founder of the leading communications company Weyland Industries, sent a private yet high-paid group of scientists to investigate a strange pyramid-like heat source within the frozen island. A team of a dozen specialists went onto the island and only one came out. The only survivor of the Weyland disaster is a woman by the name of Alexa Woods. She is an experienced field guide who specializes in the Artic and Antarctica environments. Like the good Major, when questioned about what went down on that block of ice, Ms. Woods isn't talking."

The screen flicked off and died.

"Though these two incidents are a little different, I think we're dealing with the same intergalactic creeps." Zed leaned on his desk. "Alexa Woods and Alan Schaefer are the only two people on this planet who know what the Yautja are and how to deal with them."

J turned to his boss with the obvious question on his face.

"Well? What's goin' on? Why isn't this military meat-head and survivor lady here now?" The younger agent asked.

"I agree with J, Zed." K folded his arms and turned to his boss. "Why aren't Schaefer and Woods here now?"

Zed got a twisted yet coy look on his face.

"It's your assignment to find them, Agents K and J." The Chief responded.

The agents groaned in objection.

"Zed, we is the BEST of the MIB! Finding civilians? Get some other suckers lower on the Totem Pole than us! That's a rookie's job!" J threw his hands in the air.

"Kid's right, Zed." Even K looked a little cross. "Get someone else to look for Woods and Schaefer while we go to New Guinea and confront the rouges."

Zed's twisted smile remained.

"For the moment, you two will find Alexa Woods and Alan Schaefer. The rouge Yautja will be dealt with but only when we know how to deal with them." The Chief answered. "I will not let my best agents run blindly into that Indonesian jungle without knowing what's stalking behind every tree."

K and J sighed.

"Where do we start?" Agent K said through gritted teeth.

The Chief dug through the files inside his drawers. Plopping two manila folders down on the desk, Zed smiled.

"Here's their present locations and everything you need to know about them." Zed answered. "Have fun and good luck. You're gonna need it."

K picked up the nearest folder to him. Opening it, he found it to be Alexa Wood's.

"All right." The senior agent snatched the folder from the desk. "We'll go after the closest one. Which is?"

He looked at Zed as J scrunched his nose.

"Alan Schaefer is the nearest to HQ." Chief Zed voiced. "The Major is hanging out in Detroit, Michigan; you'll find out where in the file."

As Zed gestured toward the manila folder, K's mouth creased as he turned back to his partner. Both the two seasoned veterans felt like first years again.

"How much time do we have?" K questioned, fear seen even through those black shades.

The Chief sighed.

"Not enough." Zed said as grave as a cemetery. "You have until the end of the afternoon to assemble Woods and Schaefer, find out what we need to know and get to Indonesia."

K popped his lips.

"Same as always." He picked up Alan Schaefer's folder and shoved it into J's chest. "Let's roll."

J saluted to Zed as K walked to the door.

"Hey Zed? Can we take something a little faster than my car?" The senior MIB agent asked.

Zed groaned and stood from his desk.

"Take what you need, but remember the LOW profile." The Chief said.

K nodded.

"Something subtle. Got it."

R&R! LONG LIVE ROCK!


	4. Major Alan Dutch Schaefer

Ohyaho everyone! CJzilla here with an update. Thank you for your patience, so without further ado, here's the next chapter. In this chapter J and K travel to Detroit to track down the ex-Major. But they find that Schaefer's all ready on the move. Can they catch him in time before he does something the whole world will regret? Enjoy.

As I rampage through this city, alls CJzilla has to roar is this: R&R! Love... hate... review.

_Vegetto800: I've seen both MIB movies but ironically, not the animated series. Agent K can be capable of being as giddy as a schoolgirl but yet as steely and unyeilding as a "bad cop"; I play both in here. Agent J is wise-cracking but not always alert to the finesse that certain situations call for. I'll take your comment to heart and try to reflect that in following chapters._

_: I've been wanting to do a MIB/Predator/Alien fic for a long time now. Sorry about the wait; the muse took its time getting to me._

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Chapter 4

_Major Alan "Dutch" Schaefer_

When Agents K and J got to Michigan a rain storm provided cover as they made their not-so-normal entrance. The thick clouds heavy with water muffled the sonic boom the specialty vehicle made once it dropped out of hyper-speed. The MIB vehicle touched down in a quiet Detroit alley and as soon as it hit the pavement the transport transformed into a normal looking, unthreatening black car. Pulling out into a rainy city street, Agents K and J started their search for Major Alan "Dutch" Schaefer.

"All right, J. We find our good Major on the docks. What'd his profile say? A crane technician?" K shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Now _why_ would an ex-military merc be working a dead-end job like that?"

J looked up from having his eyes cast out of the window.

"Hey, he may be military but I bet he never saw that alien comin'." The younger agent answered. "The poor dude's probably tryin' his best to cope with it all."

K hummed his acknowledgement.

"Let's hope our boy's in a listening mood." He replied.

Normally the only nice looking black car inside one of the Western Lake Erie docking centers would be in a barge container and so the MIB agents stuck out like a sore thumb. Climbing out of their car, K and J moved toward the dock's office. J groaned when he stepped into a large, dirty puddle, with his stylish fair-weather shoes that pulled in the sky water like a dry sponge.

"It's just a little rain, J. It's not gonna kill you." K told his partner as he eased his hand on the cold doorknob.

"It ain't killin' _me_, it's killin' my new cotton socks!" J complained.

The senior officer shook his head and walked into the small dock office. Heat and cigarette smoke came out of the open door in a plume. It took everything K had not to choke on the unpleasant smell coming from the tiny trailer.

"H-hey!" K heard a man bark. "You can't be in 'ere! This ain't no public area now get your butt out of here before I kick it!"

Bringing his eyes up, K saw a desk and a rather unappealing man sitting behind it. K gave the portly, cancer-stick-sucking man an icy stare. He immediately saw that he didn't have to adopt some elaborate alias to cover his MIB identity.

"I'm looking for Alan Schaefer. You seen him, boss man?" And that's all he said.

The portly man tapped the ash from his cigarette and returned his eyes back to the newspaper he was reading.

"Not today. The bum didn't show up and I had to find some other idiot to unload today's shipments." He replied, rolling the cigarette around in his mouth. "Schaefer's SO fired."

K glanced outside the window and noticed a container being lifted off the barge. Without another word K quietly slipped out of the trailer. He almost hit heads with J as he left. Shutting the door behind him, K looked to the crane in the distance.

"Schaefer's not there." He pointed, a crease of suspicion hitting his face. J followed his eyes, glancing between him and the crane.

Swallowing lightly J sucked his teeth.

"What-?" J began then K gruffly walked passed him, face fogged over with thought.

"He's not here." K repeated to himself. Walking to the car, his hand was scarcely on the door handle when he stopped. "Schaefer's not-…"

Zipping into the car, the tall, chiseled-face man rolled down his window.

"C'mon kid!" He yelled at J who was slowly walking to his door. "Some time today would be nice!"

J jogged to the car and jumped into his seat.

"All right! All right!" He barely had time to get his feet off of the pavement before K slammed his food down on the accelerator. "Whoo! Okay Mister Mood Swing; where we going now?"

K's face was straight.

"To Schaefer's house. I have a feeling the good Major is up to something." He answered, skidding out of the parking lot and out into the streets of Detroit. Angry motorists honked their displeasure, since K pulled out without looking at the oncoming traffic.

J eyed the grill of the big diesel that nearly creamed his side of the car. K was mumbling his thoughts and most were clear enough to hear.

"Ex-military, working a dead-end, unassuming job and then suddenly leaving without notice? He's low profile…" K garbled on. "The sole survivor to a slaughter… Low profile and won't spill what happened."

J sucked his teeth and glanced at this partner as they ran a red light.

"You think Schaefer's seen the headlines?" The younger MIB agent questioned, bringing up the news from Indonesia and the Yautja activity. J quirked a brow. "He's out for revenge."

K gave a nod.

"And we better catch him before he does something the entire world will regret." The older MIB returned, face as straight as a pin.

Ten minuets later K and J arrived at a back-alley apartment building in the slums of Detroit. Walking into the apartment complex, they came to Schaefer's home, according to his file. Both agents looked down the hall at the apartment and acknowledged Schaefer's low profile nature.

"Corner apartment down a long hallway, away from the entrance; very unassuming." K voiced as he and J began walking toward the apartment. "I bet that apartment has a fire-escape."

J nodded, marching alongside his partner.

"He could come and go without attracting attention." The tall black man nodded. K gave J a look that admired Schaefer's planning.

By that time both MIB agents stepped up to the apartment's door. K gave one firm knock and both listened. Nothing but the vehicles outside and the normal noise of an apartment building. K's patience was up.

"Kick it down, kid." The tall man nodded at the door as he took a step to the side. J raised his eyebrows at his partner before stepping forward and twisted the doorknob.

The door instantly swayed open.

"Hiya." J smirked at K. K's face was straight if a little irritated at his partner's smugness as he stepped into the apartment.

J followed, shaking his head.

"Mr. Schaefer!" K called into the dark apartment. "Mr. Alan Schaefer! We'd like to have a word with you."

Nothing. K frowned as he reached for the light switch. Instantly the room was illuminated. Both agents grimaced at the state of the home.

"Sheesh." J voiced as he looked around the dingy apartment. The place was in a state of disarray; random objects were strewn in all directions but looked directly moved.

K and J went to work looking around the apartment. J went into Schaefer's bedroom while K sifted through the stuff strewn on the floor, couch and table. The older agent found photos and newspaper clips, various summoning attempts by the government along with copies of Schaefer's letter of resignation to the military. K's eyes then fell on a framed photograph sitting on the table. There were five men in military uniform, one being Schaefer. The men were scruffy and dirty but smiling, indicating that they had just battled through innumerable enemy forces and came out victorious. From the background of the picture, he suspected the photo was taken in Istanbul around the mid eighties. The other men standing beside Schaefer in the photo had to be the team of military mercenaries that he lost on that fateful yet mysterious mission back in Guatemala. K shook his head. Schaefer was an ex-Major; he was probably very close to each of his team.

"Hey J!" He called to his partner. "Talk to me!"

From inside Schaefer's bedroom, J answered.

"You won't believe what I found in here!" The younger agent answered. "He's a heavy weapons hoarder! I found an automatic, a rifle, loads and loads of ammunitions and some butt-ugly shoes in his closet!"

Then J walked to back out to the living room.

"But there are no suitcases or money. There's ash in his trash, probably some papers he didn't want anyone to find." He continued. "Schaefer's wall's covered in newspaper clips, letters and photos. He's been planning something."

K nodded as he stood.

"I can't find a passport." K looked at his partner before he grinned. "The good Major is going mobile."

"We can go mobile too." J smirked. With that the two MIB agents darted for the door and to the Michigan airport.

The unmarked, black MIB car screamed up to the entrance of the Detroit airport, taking a parking space in the "no parking" zone of the loading and unloading zone. Hopping out of their car, K and J ran into the airport. They ran up to the nearest desk to a bubbly woman.

"Hi! Can I-?" But J cut her off.

"Are there any flights leaving for Indonesia today?" J barked out. The blond woman blinked.

"Uh… let me check. This'll only take one second!" She chirped. But then the woman slowly moved her computer mouse, typing very slowly.

K felt his trigger finger twitch at the woman's blatant lack of speed.

"Um… there's not a direct flight to Indonesia, but there is a refueling station there that a flight to Sydney, Australia needs to layover at. Does that help?" She questioned, immaculate smile on her face.

"When does it leave? And what terminal?" K growled.

"It leaves in ten minuets. Terminal 314A. Would you like another-?" Without leaving room for her full answer, K and J sprinted toward the terminals. The security point was going to be a problem.

Running out and down the escalator to the security floor, K and J eyed their options for getting to terminal 314A before the flight left. To J's horror, K pulled off his sunglasses and drew his MIB weapon and aimed it at the fountain.

"K! What are you-?!" And K pulled the weapon's trigger. The fountain blew and sent water sky high.

The explosion made all of the people on the security platform jump ten feet in the air. As K had their attention, he gave an unusually girly gasp.

"Bomb! There was a bomb!" Then he pointed to some random guy sitting on one of the benches, enjoying a submarine sandwich. "HE'S got the detonator! I saw it!"

The security jumped the man, creaming him and his sandwich, leaving J and K a window to move past the security zone without being spotted.

J and K ran down the escalator to the small subway cars shuttling passengers from one terminal to the next. Zipping into the nearest one, the two MIB agents grabbed the handholds as the tiny subway car flew off to the A terminals. The two tall men clad in black and white suits and sunglasses got some weird looks from beach-dressed vacationers.

"Was that really necessary, K?" J whispered through his teeth. K gave a shrug and a grin.

"Someday J, when you grow up, and with a whole lotta luck you MAY be just as good as me." That warranted a suppressed laugh out of Agent J. K let out a little chuckle as they were being whisked to the terminals and Alan Schaefer, hopefully the MIB's newest recruit.

The flight to Sydney, Australia was boarding. At the front of the long line, a couple was having trouble with their tickets, making the other passengers behind them groan with impatience. Everyone onboard that flight was looking forward to a long flight, with a layover to refuel. In the middle of the line was a tall, toned man carrying a duffle bag, a baseball cap on his head and dark shades over his eyes, holding his tickets in his hand. His mouth was curved in a downward frown, standing in a straight military posture as he watched the tourists in front of him. He wore an army green jacket, brown pants and black t-shirt. The front of his tight shirt was bulging faintly, his dog tags seen slightly under the fabric. His destination wasn't Sydney; it was Indonesia.

Just then an airport cart came screaming up to the terminal and pulled to a screeching stop at the back of the line of passengers. Two men, dressed in black, jumped out of the cart and looked over the line of people. The younger black man zipped up to the ticket desk. His conversation with the woman behind the desk could not be heard but it was predictable; he was asking how many passengers had boarded all ready. The older man with thinning brown hair was at the back of the line, searching over the people's faces as he walked toward the front of the line. He passed the tall toned man in a baseball cap without blinking. Then the man stood before everyone.

"I'm looking for a Mr. Schaefer." The older man stated, not bothering to take off his dark shades. He spoke louder. "A Mr. Alan Schaefer."

The people in the line shook their heads. The man walked on through the line calling Schaefer's name.

"Mr. Schaefer!" He continued. "Mr. Schaefer? I know you're here Alan."

K made his way back to the tall man with a baseball cap. Through all of these pot-bellied tourists, this man had an ex-military stance and was most likely their guy; K just had to prove it. Walking back up to the man, K looked at him. With a brief look-over, the MIB agent spotted the front of his shirt. The outline of his military dog tags.

"We can't let you get on that flight…" K began, hands folded behind his back. "Major."

The tall man scowled as he dropped his duffle bag. K saw him ball a fist but did not move. The tall man hauled his fist across K's face and dropped him to the floor. Flabbergasted tourists gasped loudly as K's dark glasses clanked to the side. J's mouth dropped open as he floundered for his weapon.

The tall man stood partially out of line as he glared at K.

"Don't move!" J barked, pointing his weapon at the attacker. The man turned his attention to J and looked at the odd weapon in his hands. "Hands UP Goldilocks!"

The people around them began to quiver and scream as the tall man slowly raised his hands. J gave the man a glare before calling to his partner.

"You all right, K?" He called to K. K sat up, blinking the stars and vertigo from his eyes.

The older man gave a chuckle as he stood. Straightening his jacket, K grinned at his attacker.

"A simple handshake would suffice, Major." He voiced holding his chin for a brief second. From behind the tall man's shades, he glared at K.

"I don't know what you're talking about." This man was definitely Schaefer; his accent was thickly Austrian, hardened by anger and hate.

K nodded as his grin tripled in size.

"J!" He called to his partner. "Put the gun down!"

J's eyebrows shot up.

"What?! K-… that dude just-!" The younger MIB objected. K groaned playfully.

"C'mon, kid! Stand-down." At his partner's instructions, J lowered his tiny yet powerful MIB weapon. The people calmed a little before they all looked to K and the tall man known as Alan Schaefer.

K cleared his throat as the ex-Major lowered his arms.

"As I was saying-" Then his face fell serious again as he looked at Schaefer. "What can you solve by going to Indonesia, Major? You can't bring them back from the dead."

That made Schaefer turn to the smaller, older man.

"I've told your kind over and over." Schaefer hissed, a seething look on his face. K saw his hands ball into fists again. "I'm not talking."

K's face was still straight and serious.

"I don't want you to talk. Just listen." He returned. "The world is in danger. The world needs saving and you are one of the only people that can help us."

Schaefer gave a bitter smirk.

"The world needs saving?" He gave a cold chuckle. "You can take that trash back to your superiors. I've heard every ploy, every tear-jerking story; save it for someone who cares."

The tall man turned forward again, ignoring K.

"Your enemy and our enemy is one and the same, Dutch." K stated, getting Schaefer to snap his attention back to him. "The same enemy that took down your Green Beret mercenary team. They're back and they'll take down the earth if you don't help us."

By that time J stood next to his partner, listening in on the conversation. Schaefer's eyes couldn't be seen behind his dark sunglasses but his face creased with the memory of his friends hunted down in cold blood.

"I understand your anger and hatred you feel; you've planned to take revenge. If you leave for Indonesia now, you'll end up like your men: dead." Now the people around them were starting to whisper and listen in.

Schaefer gave a sour chuckle over the sarcastic smirk on his face; he didn't believe K.

"I've lost my fair share of partners and friends." The MIB agent answered. "But blasting away like a solo mercenary will only get you killed. You help us and I can guarantee these alien scumbags will never get the chance to kill again."

The ex-Major then quirked a brow at K.

"You're not from the government, are you?" Schaefer questioned, his head slightly cocked to both of them. K and J glanced at each other.

"We are the Men In Black. We police, monitor and direct alien activity on Earth." J stated, calm and steely. Gasps rang out but Alan Schaefer remained placid. "Kinda like Casablanca without the Nazis."

"From bugs to walking snot, we've seen it all…" K stated. "But not this."

"The same motherhopers from Guatemala are back and they've taken root in New Guinea. Y'all are one of the two experts that can defeat these dudes." J added.

The tall man sighed once before he looked between the two MIB agents before removing his sunglasses from his face. Sleepless yet determined blue eyes seemed to tell a story all their own as the ex-Major looked at K.

"You know, the MIB two of the only groups who haven't asked about Guatemala." Schaefer gave a little grin. "I was expecting Santa Claus before you guys."

Schaefer paused before he nodded.

"I'm in." The ex-Major grabbed his duffle bag. J raised his eyebrows as K simply nodded in agreement.

Bending down, K scooped up his sunglasses.

"J… take care of things here." The older MIB agent glanced around the mystified people before motioning to Schaefer. "This way Mr. Schaefer."

As K and Alan Schaefer walked to the airport cart, J smiled at the crowd of people.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I can just have your attention for a quick second." He pulled out an unassuming rod that looked more like a pen than anything. J pointed to the top of the device, which was in fact, a Neuralyzer. "I'm having a problem with this thing. Can you people tell me if the little light flashes when I do this-?"

J pressed a button and the Neuralyzer and a flash of blue light washed over the crowd of confused people. Then, J casually put his Neuralyzer back into his coat's pocket. Now all that was left to do was to place a false memory over the erased ones.

"Thank you for participating in this random poll about the complementary airline peanuts and their impact on the everyday person." He voiced with a smile. "Enjoy your flight to Australia."

With that, the MIB agent turned on his heel. K and Schaefer were waiting in the cart, their backs to the crowd of Neuralyzed people. J hopped in the back seat, making sure his Neuralyzer was safely tucked away.

"We're good here, K." J voiced. K nodded and stepped on the cart's accelerator.

"Next… Ms. Alexa Woods." K stated as he, J and Alan Schaefer buzzed down the terminal hallway.

* * *

R&R! LONG LIVE ROCK!


	5. Alexa Woods

What's it been, huh? Nearly a year? Well... I'm not going to apologize. Just read the chapter below.

As I rampage all over this city, alls CJzilla has to roar is this...: Love... hate... review. I don't give a care.

* * *

Chapter 5

_Alexa Woods_

Agents K and J and the newly recruited Alan Schaefer walked out of the Detroit International Airport; the good major hauling his duffle bags and the two MIB agents looking as cool as ever. Upon exiting the airport, they saw a security guard examining their car. K grunted his irritation; the government was always there to throw an unneeded fly in the MIB's soup.

"This your car?!" The chubby airport cop questioned bluntly.

"It is!" J nodded, putting on a forced smile. "An' let me tell you man, it gets AWESOME gas mileage!"

The security guard rolled his eyes and started to pull out his ticket book. K ushered Schaefer into the car.

"You see the sign?" It was a rhetorical question, as the chubby man pointed to the "No Parking" on the entrance's doorway. "You can pick up your vehicle at-"

Flash from a Neuralyzer. It was K.

"We ain't got time for this." The older man growled as he tucked his Neuralyzer into his jacket and then gestured for J to get in the car. "Get your cocky butt in the car, tiger, so we can stop and Earth-ending _invasion_!"

J hopped across the trunk of the car and jumped into the front passenger seat.

"You buckled up for safety, Major?" The young black man asked Schaefer as he looked back at him with a smile on his face.

The tall Austrian man gave J a glare. J shrugged and put on his glasses.

"Punch it, K." He remarked, clicking on his seatbelt.

K nodded. The black car squealed out of the awning of the airport's entrance. The car sped past the taxis crowding the roadway. A pair of alien looking machines popped out of the car's trunk. Suddenly the automobile lifted off of the ground and flew off into the rainy Michigan sky. Next was to find Alexa Woods.

Zion National Park, southeastern Utah. Alexa Woods, a fit African American woman of her early thirties held her hands into the slick Kayenta sandstone making up her climb. The reddish rock was wet with melting snow from a few days before. Quite a difference from the icy and unbearably cold Artic and Antarctic environments she was so used to traversing. Though uncomfortable and halfway nervous about the new landscape of her hike, Alexa didn't want to return to the ice. Even as the cold water of melting snow ran down her arms and soaked her socks, she couldn't look at it.

Grunting past a flurry of bad memories of Bouvetøya Island, Alexa pressed on, coming to the top of the large hill of sandstone. Getting to her feet, she waded through knee-deep, melting snow and got a wave of accomplishment as she stared out over the beautiful Zion National Park. She walked on, her eyes on the winter whites and the reds of the endless sandstone rocks. Alexa needed a new ground under her feet and the Utah geography was a perfect difference. Unfortunately, she still needed to learn that sandstone was slick when it was wet. Suddenly, the woman found herself on her back and sliding towards the edge of the red rock she was standing on.

"Oh, _sh_-!" Alexa choked out, shocked at how fast she was falling. The seasoned guide writhed and clawed for something to grab hold of.

Nothing but smooth and wet sandstone was all around. Had this been snow and ice, she would have dug her climbers' pick and saved herself. But she had no pick and no experience on rock before. Alexa had no time to curse or scream as she fell from the rock and dropped twelve feet to the base of the sandstone boulder. She couldn't help but roll down the steep incline of snow and dry earth, hitting sagebrush and other arid-climate plants. Finally Alexa righted and dug her hands and feet into the earth. She stopped, only small rocks and uprooted plants falling down the hill now.

"Great!" She snarled, her voice carried in an echo over the red rocks of Utah. She had dirt packed in her clothes and cuts on her hands.

Snow and ice was never this slick. Alexa took in a breath, trying to calm her anger and the slight adrenaline rush coursing through her veins. Planting her knees into the dirt, she wiped her face and brushed snow off of her shoulders. The dirt and plants in her hair exposed her novice rock climbing. And the group back down at the trailhead would remind her of her inexperience as soon as they saw her akimbo appearance. Huffing again, Alexa Woods stood and began to descend the hill of dirt, snow and plants. Her aim was the trailhead, her truck and a cup of warm tea.

Alexa returned to the trailhead, walking along the well worn path of a National Park trail. Her eyes were on her shoes, which were sopping with melted snow. It was winter in the Zion National Park but that never stopped birds from singing. However, when she neared her vehicle and those of her climbing partners, the birdsong was cancelled out. Alexa heard three unfamiliar voices and then the doors of her truck slamming. Her breath hitched as she ran to her beaten red Land Rover.

Bolting down the trail and into the parking lot, Alexa Woods felt her adrenaline rush to her hands and feet. Bad luck had found her for the past five years in the form of thieves, restless night and bad men. She should have known, even out here in the Utah desert, it'd find her here too.

Woods stopped just before she rounded her truck. Her eyes came to a tall and muscular man standing with his back resting on the side of her vehicle. He easily flicked a toothpick to the ground and turned his mirrored sunglasses to her. He never made a move to stand for her, but even while he looked at her, his stance was rigid and trained. Intimidating to say the least. Alexa's dark eyes narrowed as she made fists with her hands. The buff man just looked at her, a tiny smirk tugging at the side of his mouth.

Then Alexa heard another voice and her eyes traced to the side. Parked along side her truck was a rather nice and clean looking black car; a 1987 Ford LTD Crown Victoria to be exact. Seated on the hood of that car was another man, one of late twenties, African-American and dressed in black. His eyes were on a strange looking GPS device, occasionally knocking off a quiet curse and shaking the small machine. And there was a third man also dressed in black but with thinning brown hair, rummaging through her truck and calling out his findings to the man on the hood of the car. Alexa was livid. And her attention focused on the one going through her glove department. She tore around her truck, breathing fire.

"She's got trail maps." Agent K called out the window to J, flicking trail maps and State Park brochures over his shoulder. "But Woods is a smart girl; she probably took the map to the trail she's walking."

J was still trying to pinpoint Alexa Woods' location on the commissioned alien targeting system. But she caught up to them before they could get a bead on her. K jumped a little when the passenger-side door flew open and a woman, whom he reasoned was Alexa Woods, grabbed him by the front of the suit and yanked him out of the truck.

"You.. little… jack-off!" The dark-skinned woman snarled into K's face, pushing him to the truck.

A goofy, impressed and attempted-friendly smile came to the middle-aged man's face as he saw that Alexa wanted to rip him a new one.

"Ah, Ms. Woods." K shrugged. "Sorry 'bout this. We just needed to find you."

The woman's rage never waned. She growled and pushed him away. Alexa then threw her backpack onto the hood of her truck and dug out her cell phone. She pounded in a number, stuck it to her ear and opened her truck's door. She crawled into the back and began going through her stuff.

K straightened his suit jacket and walked around the truck, passing Schaefer.

"And the Bouvetøya survivor returns." The MIB agent smirked before opening the door to his car and grabbing something he found in Alexa's things.

Alexa, meanwhile, was trying to get a hold of the Park Service to report these three weirdoes. Unfortunately due to the environment, a decent signal couldn't get through.

"Sheez!" The woman grunted. The dropped phone call was annoying but nothing compared to missing her most prized possession.

Alexa felt her eyes get dewy and desperation set in as it wasn't in its normal place. Suddenly she heard a tap on window and the three men staring at her. The white man dressed in black, face steely as he suddenly held up her gift.

"We'd like a _word_ with you, Ms. Woods." In his hand was her spear, given to her by the race of aliens she fought alongside with back in the Antarctic. Her rage bubbled over as she scrambled for the nearest door.

She spilled out onto the dirt parking lot and gritted her teeth.

"Give it back! NOW!" She commanded, taking a threatening step forward. The three men just kept staring, their sights on the peculiar scar on the left side of her face.

"This is a very interesting weapon." The black man said, quirking an eyebrow. "Never seen one like _that_ before."

"What's it to you, butthead?!" Alexa jumped forward and grabbed the spear out of the man's hand.

"It's everything to us, Ms. Woods." The older man replied. "I am Agent K, this is Agent J and this is Mr. Alan Schaefer. I'm guessing that spear isn't from this world?"

Alexa's breath hitched.

"Look back on my last interview with the FBI, Agent _K_. That's _all_ I am saying!" She snapped, clutching the spear to her chest. With that she moved around the hood of her truck and snatched her backpack.

"No, girl; we ain't from the government." Agent J spoke up, following her. Alexa ignored him and was searching for her keys. "And we ain't no dad-gum FBI jag offs, neither. We are the Men In Black and we need y'alls help."

The woman grunted in frustration as she looked up at K and J. But then her eyes traced back to Schaefer who was casually lighting up a half-used cigar.

"Men In Black?" Her eyes sharpened. "That's a lie. The Men In Black are only an urban legend!"

J shook his head.

"Nope. We are as real as they come 'sept we don't answer to Uncle Sam." The young MIB agent returned. "We know our aliens. And we've got a problem with the ones you faced back on Bouvetøya."

Alexa's face paled and her eyes grew wide. The serpents? They were _back_? The woman stood there, looking like she was on the verge of a panic attack. K and J glanced at each other. Schaefer only frowned, swigging on his stogie. Alexa finally found her words as she pushed through a flurry of her fears.

"The world's screwed." She peeped, the last words that her friend Sebastian De Rosa uttered before she shot him scrawled across her mind. "The world is utterly screwed."

Schaefer groaned and puffed out a lungful of cancer smoke.

"Calm down, lady." The ex-major grunted, his Austrian accent getting Alexa to look at him. "I've beaten one before."

Alexa's eyes were still wide.

"Only one? There were HUNDREDS of them!" She swallowed, her fear rising in her voice. "And the queen-…! I barely escaped with my life!"

"BOTH of you are wrong!" K barked. Silencing Alexa and Schaefer. "There are three butt-faced aliens here and arguing about how many you've slain ain't doing the earth any favors."

Schaefer's frown grew into a scowl as he stuck the cigar back into his mouth. Alexa was still shocked from the news.

"What do you want with me?" She asked, gripping her spear tight.

"It's simple and sweet, Woods." K returned. "We need your help fighting these aliens. You are one of the only two people who'd faced these ugly motherhopers. We could really use you."

Alexa's dark eyes darted from K to J to Schaefer.

"N-no…" She returned, swallowing loudly. "I've got to go."

The woman shut her eyes really tight as she pushed past J and K. Climbing into her Land Rover, she started it up and threw it in reverse just as Schaefer stood from leaning on the vehicle. K wasn't pleased.

"Sheesh." K hissed, drawing a weapon from his coat's pocket. He walked forward and in front of Alexa's truck.

Then J caught what his partner was doing.

"K!" The younger MIB agent squeaked, scrambling after his friend.

As Alexa put her car into drive, she caught Agent K step out in front of her car and aim something at her. Time only froze as he pulled the trigger of the bizarre weapon. Rings of blue light, like something straight out of a B movie hit her truck. Immediately the vehicle went haywire; lights flashing, car horn honking and engine revving. And then in a blast of smoke from her exploding radio, the Land Rover quit. Alexa flinched as hot plastic flew at her face. Stunned she saw K lower his weapon as Agent J ran up to him. Her hand went for her keys and tried to turn her truck over. No response from the vehicle.

"What is your problem?!" J barked, pushing K's shoulder. "You just made her wet herself!"

K groaned as Schaefer walked over, looking curiously at the weapon in the man's hands.

"Quit thinkin' with your _pants_ and _focus_, kid!" K snapped back. "We need Woods! So the sooner she faces her fears, the sooner we can save the earth! Got it?"

J gritted his teeth; another crack at his inability to think clearly when there was a smoking hot mama around.

"THIS is why y'all don't have any friends, you hard-headed Jack Webb _wannabe_!" The younger agent pointed at K's happy trigger finger. Suddenly Woods' truck door slammed.

All eyes were on her as she trudged up to them her teeth clenched tight enough to crack. Then they spotted that spear in her hands. Unexpectedly and with a flick of a switch, the small weapon sprang out of its unassuming housing. Deadly looking blades were on either side of the baton.

"Interesting." K observed as Woods swung that spear and pressed one of its sharp edges rested to the side of his neck.

"Leave me _alone_!" Alexa snarled, her hands tight on that weapon yet she was softly trembling. "I want to forget about Bouvetøya!"

"But you _can't_ forget about Bouvetøya, Woods." K spoke in great confidence, knowing that Alexa would not harm him. "If you don't help us, the same thing that happened on that ice block will happen to a heavily populated area. I don't peg you for a bad person, Alexa, just a _scared_ one."

Alexa's eyes narrowed dangerously as K shrugged the weapon off of his throat.

"What happened back in 2004 justifies why I can't sleep and think clearly without seeing one of those _things_ killing everyone in that expedition!" She snapped back, putting the weapon's blade back on K's neck.

"Envision all those in your expedition, Woods. Now multiply that by a thousand." K frowned. Alexa swallowed. "This is our situation NOW! The killings won't stop and bodies will only pile up. So… bite down your fear and _get in_ that car!"

At his impolite gesture an enraged scowl came to Woods' face.

"Jerk wad." Alexa hissed. She removed her spear from K's throat and stalked off toward the MIB cruiser.

K straightened his jacket and walked after Woods, taking a communicator from his pocket.

"Headquarters, this is Agent K. Send pick up for red Land Rover, owned by an Alexa Woods." He stated. There was a click in reply and K returned his communicator to his pocket.

J just shook his head, obviously embarrassed by his friend's gruffness with Woods.

"I only untie him for social events." The young man looked up at Schaefer. The tall Austrian man rolled his eyes and walked back to the car.

504 Battery Drive, Manhattan, New York. Agents K and J exited their black car with little more than a shrug and a sigh. J straightened his sunglasses while K moved around the car. The older MIB operative casually opened the car door for Alexa. K waited for a respectable five seconds before his patience ran out. Stealing a glance into the car, he saw Alexa sitting there and looking up at him with hesitation in her brown eyes.

"Ms. Woods, time is of the essence. There is no room for waiting in the car for your courage to find you." He grunted, quirking an unsympathetic eyebrow. Woods just glared as she climbed out of the car, ignoring K's hand.

"We just flew over hundreds of miles in a CAR." She returned. K shrugged, a small smirk crossing his wrinkled face.

"At least you know we ain't lyin'." The senior MIB agent chirped, shutting the door. "You'll get used to the surprises, Ms. Woods."

K walked around the 1987 Ford LTD Crown Victoria. and joined J. Schaefer, who was standing to the side, looking over the tall 504 Battery Drive, light up his cigar again.

""Tri-borough Bridge and Tunnel Authority"?" Schaefer puffed out a lungful of smoke and a chuckle. "What kind of _bull_shine cover?"

"You an army man, Schaefer." J gave a cocky grin. "What's the best place to hide than out in the open?"

The ex-major drawled on his stogie and looked J right in the eye.

"The best place to hide is in your enemy's body cavity." Schaefer replied, his face straight but his words dripping with a twisted sense of humor. J sighed heavily and face-palmed in the same motion.

"I've got _another_ K on my hands." The younger MIB agent lamented. K approached his partner and slapped him on the back.

"C'mon, slick; let's beam up our new helpers." He walked to the front door. J straightened his suit and bit down a complaining whimper.

With a gesture, J allowed Woods and finally Schaefer to walk in front of him. K held the door open for the two visitors and his partner. Woods entered the building first and instead of finding a lobby of say, a normal business structure, she only found a small barren room with big vents on both side of her and an elevator in front of her.

"Can I help you?" A voice came from her right. Jumping, Woods saw a middle-aged black man in a suit, sitting on a chair and reading a supermarket tabloid magazine.

She took a step back and bumped into Schaefer. Schaefer never flinched under her touch; his attention was on the doorman and giving him a stare down.

"Relax pops." J told the doorman, swinging his arms around Schaefer's and Woods' shoulders. "They is friends."

With little more than an uncaring glance back down to his reading material. J smiled at Schaefer's irritated glare as Woods stepped out from under his arm. K walked past them, pulling off his sunglasses.

"C'mon. We've got a world to save." The senior agent punched the button to the elevator and it instantly opened. Woods followed quickly while Schaefer pushed J off of him.

The MIB agents and two alien survivors stepped into the chrome and sterile elevator. Pressing another button, J took off his sunglasses as the elevator moved down. The younger MIB agent blinked and then traced over to Alexa's eyes. He gave her one of his suave smiles. Alexa never caught his gesture, instead she was blinking and trying not to gag from Schaefer's cigar smoke. Putting her hand over her nose and mouth, she couldn't hold in a cough.

Schaefer glanced at her and only mulled on the end of his nearly spent cigar. K and J were used to the smoke of cigarettes since the Worms always had a cancer stick in their dirty yet pliable mouths. Still… it made for a less than relax atmosphere inside of that elevator. But then the doors opened. J and K stepped through the doors and out into the MIB headquarter's lobby. Upon first look out into the spacious foyer, you could pick out the humans from the humanoids and walking intestinal tracts.

Both MIB agents smiled at the feeling of being somewhere familiar…- and the fact that Alan Schaefer and Alexa Woods were without question blown away.

"A little violating, huh?" J looked back at Schaefer and Woods who were still in the elevator, with their jaws on the ground. "Aliens on Earth… about a 9.5 on your jacked-up-things- o'meter."

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Review! LONG LIVE ROCK!


	6. Flying Blind

Update! Read it... Too lazy to do anything else...

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Chapter 6

_Flying Blind_

"K! J!" Zed's voice carried over the din of the extraterrestrial airport, bringing the busy area to a silence. The two MIB agents turned to their superior and straightened their posture slightly. "Why did it take my two best men _TWO_ hours to track down a couple of unstable civilians?!"

"We hit some traffic 40,000 feet up in the air." J quipped, flashing his boss a grin. K was a little more respectful… but by just a smidge.

"A warm welcome, old friend." He responded. Zed gated up to them, a frown covering his usually smart-aleck face. "What went wrong?"

Zed glowered at the two men.

"An entire village of nearly fifty individuals was _squeezed_!" THAT shut K and J up. "And all our probes picked up were about five seconds of video before they were taken out too."

"Wait. You sent the Archillian drones?" K blinked. "They are our best surveillance! What happened?"

The head of the MIB gave him a look that was as fearful and unsure as it was steely.

"The perps knocked them out before they could get sufficient information." Zed responded. "We are not messing with some sloppy alien nutcases, boys. And they're making their way through that jungle taking out villages systematically. TELL me you have some good news, K."

K sighed, his emotions channeled more toward the grave situation.

"We've found Woods and Schaefer and they are willing to help us." The MIB agent panned back towards the elevator. Zed and J's eyes followed too.

But to their surprise, they saw Woods pressing a button and the elevator's doors closing over her and Schaefer.

"Shucks!" K spat out darting to the elevator, J right behind him. "Woods! _Schaefer_!"

Then the doors closed. K barked out a curse and yelled at the nearest MIB technician to stop that elevator.

In the elevator, Alexa Woods held her hand to her mouth, holding in a dry sob instead of a cough. Schaefer stood beside here, face as straight as ever, sucking in the last of his cigar. That was too much for her; Alexa was at her breaking point. She had it in her mind to run; like she had been doing for the past five years. Then the elevator squealed to a halt. Looking up, Alexa saw Schaefer's hand on the emergency kill button. She glared at him, her mouth flapping open with an unuttered growl.

"You are doing a find job of blowing this opportunity out of your butt, lady." Schaefer grunted, taking a last swig of his cigar before dropping it on the floor and grinding it out with the tip of his combat boot.

"Shut up! You have _no_ clue!" Alexa hissed, lunging at his hand to tear it away from the elevator console. But her wrist was caught and yanked down faster than she could get near enough to touch a button.

"I do know, Woods." Schaefer returned, his teeth suddenly clenched as he looked at her. "This is a second chance to set matters right. Turn your back now and all those that died, did so in vain."

Alexa knew that he was right; she knew it with every fiber of her body. Faces flashed across her mind; Miller, De Rosa, Weyland and even the face of Scar, her warrior alien friend. All who died by the claws and beaks of those serpents, would have perished uselessly. The mark on her face, christened to her by Scar, served as a reminder of the needless slaughter of her friends. Would she let that happen again?

"Push that fear to the back of your mind." Schaefer dropped her hand. "It's why you survived in the first place."

Biting her quivering bottom lip, Alexa swallowed and looked away from the man's mirrored sunglasses.

"Good girl." The ex-major congratulated before taking his hand off of the kill switch. The elevator churned before moving again.

K felt Zed's eyes heating up his back as they watched the elevator. The senior agent had a gut feeling about the MIB's two newest helpers. Schaefer wasn't going to leave without his revenge and neither was he going to let Woods slow him down. At least the world could count on the ex-major's heard headedness. Woods while jumpy and scarred, had a determination and a lot of fight still left in her. But they still had yet to face down the demons from their past.

"The planet is looking more and more screwed as we speak." Zed stroked his goatee. J laughed a little.

"Y'all should have that on a plaque hanging above the Observation." The younger agent pointed at the tall oval screen that displayed alien activity. "Because with every approaching demise, our cute little mud ball looks royally hosed."

Zed's shoulders bounced in a sarcastic laugh.

"Both of you worry too much." K turned back to his superior and partner. "Try to think positive… like…- what cells we're gonna use lock those Yautja in."

J shrugged and nodded.

"That's a happy thought, there. Mine is when the good Major gets to go home. The dude don't like me." He stated.

"We _all_ don't like you, junior." Zed remarked, just to annoy the younger agent. J sniffed and ran his middle finger through his very short black hair.

Finally the elevator's doors opened. Schaefer stepped out with Woods at his side. The platform lowered them to the lobby level and once again they were looking K and J in the eye.

"You two nearly had me worried." K said. Then he looked at Alexa. "Nearly."

Then K tipped his head toward Zed.

"This is Chief Zed. Head honcho of the MIB agency." The man, maybe five years older than K, gave a warm nearly creepy grin.

"Welcome to our humble MIB headquarters." Zed nodded. "On behalf of all in this facility and all those wearing the monkey-suits…- I'd like to say thank you for helping us in our time of need."

"Where do we start?" Schaefer grunted, obviously impatient with the formalisms as he took off his mirrored shades. Zed folded his hands behind his back, effortlessly ignoring the man's icy stare.

"I had a briefing in mind but seeing that too much time has all ready passed, I'm just going to authorize you a flight to the Foja Mountains with a digital briefing along the way." The Chief nodded. J gave a smile.

"Rodger that, sir!" The younger agent saluted. "What transport are we takin'? I sure hope it comes with complimentary toe tags and body bags!"

K slapped his partner upside his head.

"Ow! What? He's droppin' us into that jungle… naked. And I'm not talking about a nice jungle fantasy with a loincloth g-string and hordes of naked women runnin' around." J rattled on getting Zed and K to roll their eyes. "I'm talking naked, blind and up to our necks in homicidal _fugly_ aliens."

Zed looked over the small three man and one woman team.

"Rest assured that the agency prepared you in the best ways we know how; with heavy munitions and a boatload of tech to give you the advantage." He held up his hands. "I'm sorry to send you all off before we get to know each other better but the clock is ticking. Get to western Papua New Guinea and stop those butt-faced aliens before they _skin_ anyone else!"

K stepped up to Zed.

"Before you send us to certain doom, old friend, what-?" The senior agent began. The MIB boss-man cut him off.

"All questions will be answered in mind-flight K." He responded. "Sorry friend but chatting ain't doing any favors for anyone. Now get your grumpy carcass to the hanger and get lost."

K didn't like that answer and his face curved downwards into a scowl. But at risk of wasting time on interrogating and arguing his superior, the senior agent turned to J, Schaefer and a very quiet Woods.

"J? Why are you not leading the way to the hanger?" He growled. His partner rolled his eyes.

"My bad." J responded in a snotty manner. Then he motioned for Woods and Schaefer to follow him. "This way! Follow the funny black man to the hanger."

His obnoxious actions only made Alan's frown deepen as he followed. Alexa jumped when she felt K's hand in the middle of her back.

"Shall we?" K whispered as he walked beside her. She walked with him, taking in a shaky breath. "I'm not going to ask you to say anything, sweetheart…- but I'd really like to know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

The woman swallowed as she walked with him in a brisk pace.

"In my trade there's something we call the "P.S.R."; the point of safe return. It's where an aircraft uses up half of their fuel and can't turn back." Alexa returned, pursing her lips for a quick second as she watched some four-legged alien skitter across the lobby floor. "I believe I passed my P.S.R. when I got in that elevator and saw who exactly I was working with."

K sighed, subconsciously thumbing the Neuralyzer in his suit's chest pocket.

"I understand, Woods." The senior agent glanced at J annoying Schaefer with his nearly overbearing personality. "But tell me… if an aircraft can't turn back, what happens then?"

Alexa closed her eyes and tuned out the chaos of the MIB atrium.

"It keeps flying until it reaches its destination." She glanced up at the man. K grinned a little.

"Or guzzle all of its fuel and crashes in a fiery ball of flames." He answered. Woods let a small smirk creep onto her face. "Teamwork is just that simple; and just that hard, Woods. But believe me when I say that I'd rather face down three unhinged aliens with you than crash and burn without you."

Even from knowing K for only a short amount of time, Alexa knew he was a master manipulator. But he was good at it. His small pep talk was enough to bolster her backbone and starved her fears that much more. She allowed herself to smile, even while looking at her feet.

"How good are you at shooting a gun?" The man suddenly voiced. Looking up, she pursed her lips.

"Good enough, I suppose." Alexa returned, quirking a brow. "Why?"

"Just checking." K responded. "Because we're not walking into that jungle without some sort of alien-frying weapon."

Alexa's thoughts traced back to Scar and the shoulder-mounted beam cannon that he possessed. It proved very capable of handling those slimy acid-filled serpents. But then her mind wandered to the weapons she used. The spear, the shield made of a serpent's head and the hydraulic press. Granted she was lucky and very resourceful but would that be enough this time?

J walked into the hangar first. A tall, sterile room with rows and rows of different spacecraft, each carefully organized for quick access and use. The younger agent's mind quickly covered the first row of airships, deciding which one would be best to use.

"'ey K?" He called back to his partner. "Why not we commission the Corilian Skimmer? It's got the speed."

Suddenly K was at his side, looking up at the spacecrafts.

"No dice kid; the thing's not built for four people and gear. We need something bigger and faster." With that the senior agent stalked down the first row, turning and walking down another aisle. J looked back at Woods and Schaefer, who were just stunned by what they were seeing.

"Recognize some of these?" He smirked. "Most of these were confiscated and impounded after their owners pulled a joy ride."

Just then there were taps of nails on the hard floor followed by suggestive language. J sighed. It was Frank and the Worms; cutting work like usual. They had to be pretty desperate to be hiding down here in the hanger. Turning his head, J saw the smart talking pug-like alien walk down the aisle, conversing with four pinkish worm-like aliens that were smoking cigarettes and commenting about various females.

"Frank!" J complained. "What are you doin' down here, dog?"

Both Frank and the Worms jumped. But when they recognized J, they let out jovial, friendly laughs.

"J! Me and the boys were just… checkin' on the goods. Makin' sure no one takes an unauthorized flight." Frank's tone was pleasing if a little forced. J never bought the alien's explanation.

"You mean blowing company time out of your nose by smoking and gossiping?" The MIB agent remarked, shaking his head. By that time Frank sat in front of him, looking up at the man.

"I'd never _burn_ company time, J!" The dog looked insulted. "Besides, the Worms got the goods on the newest agency secretary! Get this… she's right off of Mars and has a _beef_ with the queen!"

The alien dog-like creature gave a husky laugh.

"Forget about her rap-sheet! Did you get a load of her _zapwata_?" One of the worms wolfishly commented. A chorus of rude laughter followed his remark.

J rolled his eyes, wishing K was nearby so that he could scare some sense into these five slackers. And then Frank spotted Alexa and Alan.

"Whoa. Now… I'm thinkin' these two are _not_ MIB agents." The pug stated, looked surprised. J shrugged a little.

"And you would be correct in assuming that, Frank." The man responded in an aggravated tone. "These two are just here to ask directions."

The Worms made their way over to Schaefer and Woods, whispering and giggling.

"Gee, J. What crawled into your undies and bit your butt all over?" Frank rolled his eyes, giving his ear a scratch. J turned his eyes to the dog-like alien as his frown deepened.

"Flying into a suicide mission with no info will do that to a guy, dog." He growled back. Frank shook and laughed.

"Isn't that your job?" The pug returned. J sighed.

"Yeah but I really like my hobby- chopping off sarcastic dogs' family jewels." The man gave an evil smile. Frank blinked before laughing a little more.

"Easy killer; I'm just sayin' is all." With that the pug walked over to Woods and gave her a smile. "Hey babe."

Alexa just stared at the dog.

"Don't let the cute, furry exterior fool you, good lookin'. I only play a dog but once you get me alone-…" Frank gave a wolfish growl and licked his mouth. The woman took a step back, repulsed.

Then she felt a small hand on her thigh.

"Check it guys!" One of the Worms snaked a skinny arm around Alexa's leg. "Do I get all the girls with the best _chawengas_ or what?"

Giving a yelp of surprise, Alexa kicked her leg and knocked the Worm on his back. His friends and Frank laughed at him.

"Careful, they bite." Frank chortled. Before things could get even more awkward, they heard a commanding bark from up the aisle of aircrafts.

"WHY are there cigarette butts everywhere?!" It was K. Frank and the Worms jumped.

"I just remembered I've got a job to do!" Frank scampered toward the door, the Worms following him.

"Call me!" One of the Worms called to Alexa, raising his hand to his head and gesturing for a phone call. J laughed a little while she looked thoroughly disgusted.

"Even aliens can be perverts." Alexa huffed and pushed past the younger Agent, Schaefer on her heels. The woman followed the sound of K's shout until she came upon him eyeing a long tear-drop shaped craft.

Without a word he dug his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out his communicator.

"Have weapons and supplies loaded into Lot 3 of hanger one." K ordered and snapped his communicator back into his pocket. He must have known the three of them were walking to him. "The Galvanian Skate; like a race car of the alien craft world. Took us nearly one full week to get the owner of this beauty out of the skies."

One would recognize this ship's description from reports of it flying over Arizona's evening skies.

"Oo!" J awed at K's choice, standing beside Alexa. "The Galvanian Skate. If James Bond had a space ship… this be it."

K rolled his eyes as a loud bang from off to the side resounded through the hanger. Schaefer and Woods whipped their heads around but K and J knew that to only be the hangar's doors opening. Seconds later three MIB employees wheeled in three large crates of ammunitions and supplies. One walked up to K and gave the keys of the spacecraft to him. The senior agent passed his eyes to the keys in his palm and frowned.

"I LOVE flying blind." He remarked. It was unsettling even for K to admit, though laced with bitter sarcasm, that he didn't know what to expect.

Schaefer cleared his throat.

"That's basically what happened to me and my team." The ex-major looked down at his boots with a twisted look in his eye. "But picture ten times the chaos of half-dumb guerilla nut- offs unloading clip after clip."

Then J grimaced.

"Anyone get shot?" The younger black man quipped. Schaefer grinned.

"Only the ones we were aiming at." The ex Green Beret looked at J. Schaefer chuckled. "You are lucky I want revenge so bad or I'd walk."

"Keep the mood going, Alan. You'll soon have some alien skulls to shatter." K juggled the keys in his hand.

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Review! LONG LIVE ROCK!


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